


Patience

by janetcarter



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Season 2, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janetcarter/pseuds/janetcarter
Summary: Vera tries to push Hamish away while teaching him incantations, but he isn't about to leave her side.
Relationships: Hamish Duke/Vera Stone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> For the Hurt/Comfort Bingo prompt "Knife Wounds/Lacerations."

It was hard to watch the crimson drops dripping from Hamish's squeezed fist. Even so, all Vera could do was swallow and tell him not to get it on her carpet. It prompted a lopsided smile from him despite the gash in his palm.

After the last of their incantations, she left to get gauze from the closet. It was an old roll she hadn't had much use for until recently. After all, why bother with band-aids when you have magic?

Unfortunately, she had plenty of answers to choose from now:

One, because an ex-disciple stole your abilities and you can't even do something as simple as wish open a door, let alone heal.

Two, because if the Council finds out, you'll lose your position as Grand Magus. So you're teaching your boy-toy all the spells you might need to "perform" and you'd rather him save his energy than heal a wound he'll reopen in the morning.

And three, because, even after everything, you still need an excuse to touch him in any context that isn't sexual.

"Hand," she commanded upon her return.

He complied, and it wasn't until then she really got a good look at the cut. His palms were soft, but it still looked unnatural for a knife to do so much damage to someone as strong as him. She might expect it on her own delicate fingers and wrinkle lines… But it'd been a long, long time since hers last bled. She didn't need a palm-reader, which, by the way, was a scam, to tell her she was either powerless, dying, or both.

"You okay?" he asked, not even wincing at the pressure.

"Do you honestly think I, of all people, would get woozy at the sight of blood?" she muttered, winding the gauze around his palm. The blood stained the first few layers until a pure white quickly buried the evidence.

He smiled again, and she couldn't understand how he managed it so often. "Fair point."

She slowed down at the end, an excuse to keep his hand in hers for just another minute, before snipping the wrapping from the roll. "Good as new."

"Well, maybe not as good as if I'd healed it," he suggested, examining her handiwork. "I still don't understand why you won't let me." She frowned and let go of his hand. It swung back against his side. "But, uh, thank you."

"For God's sake, can't you let me take care of you for once?" She sighed and poured herself a glass of wine. Despite his own sobriety, he looked offended she hadn't let him pour it instead.

Still, he found a seat beside her on the couch. "I know how hard this must be for you."

"You can't _imagine_ how hard it is for me." She almost felt bad for making things more difficult, but… he still had his magic. For God's sake, he was a _werewolf._ He could take a few hits.

It wasn't like he could get fed up and leave, anyway. Without her as Grand Magus, the wolves would be screwed. He had no real choice but to help her.

But something in her said he would've been here regardless.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be so patient with me." Maybe it was because her time was limited, but she couldn't fathom why he'd waste so much of his on something so pointless.

He sighed. "Well, then what should I be?"

There was a slight annoyance to his tone that gave her satisfaction. She took another sip of wine. " _Im_ patient, obviously."

"You're going through a lot right now," he said, and her efforts were once again gone. "I just… I want to help."

If he really wanted to help, he'd leave. Let the Council find out she's broken, let them discard her at their most merciful, let her give up because trying is the most hopeless endeavor she's ever undertaken.

But no, he needed to help his friends.

And she needed to save the world when all she wanted to do was leave it.

"That's your problem," she said instead. "Your loyalty. You always let me push you around, and for what?"

"I admit you can be a bit… forceful at times. But after everything that's happened, I can't blame you."

"I don't need your pity."

"No, you need someone to let you grieve."

"And let me guess," she said, lightly swishing the little red droplets in her glass. "That someone is you?"

"Well…" He shrugged, looking at her with those clear blue eyes. "Yeah. Unless…" When he looked down, eyes shadowed, she found herself missing his gaze. "Unless you'd rather I leave."

As easy as it would've been to nod and tell him to give up on her already, the possibility of him actually walking out the door made her want to clutch his hand and never let go. (His uncut hand, anyway.) She gripped her glass tighter.

"I'm powerless and I'm dying," she said weakly, but couldn't help a light laugh at the end. "Why on earth would you want to stay?"

"Vera, I…" He swallowed. "I care about you. However long you have left, I want to be with you."

It was a fight, every time he said those things, to not let herself believe it. "There's no point."

"There is to me."

His lips were so inviting. She bit her own.

"Get some rest." she told him, looking to the guest bedroom. "We have a long day tomorrow."

"Why did you do it?" he asked after a sharp breath, catching her off guard as she stood.

She looked down to him, squinting. "Didn't I just tell you to--"

"Why did you perform the Fors Factorum?"

Her chest felt heavy. She was beginning to regret encouraging impatience. "It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"If you really must know," she said, taking a deep breath to suppress the memories threatening to choke her. "I didn't want to feel powerless. Ironic how these things turn out."

"But…"

"Is it really so hard to imagine?" Especially now?

"Well, yeah," he admitted. "You're the strongest person I know."

"I wasn't always." She built her power off of magic, off of the incantation. With everything gone except her withering corpse, what was she if not weak? "And now…"

"And now, what? You think because your magic is gone that erases everything else? Vera, I wouldn't be here if I didn't admire you, magic or not."

She shook her head. "Please."

"How can I prove it?"

"You can’t."

"Only if you're not willing to let me."

"I just… I don't understand."

"You don't try to," he said. "It's like you already accepted it's pointless. Let me show you it doesn't have to be that way." After her silence, he frowned and eyed the guest room. "Guess I'd better head to bed."

"Hamish, wait--" she said, only slightly wanting to beat herself up for it. "You… You can sleep in my room tonight. If you want."

His eyes brightened. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Like, _actually_ sleep?"

"Yes, actually sleep!"

She turned so he wouldn't see the way her mouth twitched into a smile, brought her glass to the sink and left him there dumbfounded. "Well, are you coming?"

Loyal, he followed.

And she let him. 


End file.
